Major quickly understood what the two villagers were saying.
Because deities truly existed, he had no trouble grasping the concepts they described.
They came from a strange world, one where the Deity had established rules for a game called Werewolf Kill.
Several people, or over a dozen, communicated face-to-face or remotely through telephones, telegrams, and similar means.
Some had the identity of Werewolves, while others had the identity of good people.
The two sides used their Rhetoric Skill, along with skills granted by their identities, to engage in battles of logic and emotion.
In short, it was a brain-burning game that could become mildly popular but never hugely popular. Only in their world could it become a mainstream game.
The key was that victory brought all kinds of rewards, including money and supplies, while failure brought punishments. The punishment depended on what kind of match a person entered.
The harsher the punishment, the better the reward.
As Major listened, he even felt the urge to visit their world and play. He considered himself quite intelligent; otherwise, he could not have become a major in his thirties.
His family had only provided a little help along the way.
"Understood. You mean we can't let that Werewolf survive the night. If it does, it'll kill someone," Major summed up.
"Exactly. Quickly send people to catch it. If we organize a match, we can bring the rules from our world here and kill it," the first villager said.
"But wouldn't it run away?"
"Useless. The rules have already locked onto it. As long as we gather enough people for a match, it won't be able to escape!" the second villager added.
Major nodded at first, then suddenly shook his head. "No. If we start a match, wouldn't there need to be at least